


The winds will wash you out your hair, my dears.

by another_Hero



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Food, Gen, Platonic Slumber Party, alcohol mention, slumber party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:41:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28801521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/another_Hero/pseuds/another_Hero
Summary: The night before the wedding, Rachel crashes at Patrick's. Ice cream is involved.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer & Rachel, Patrick Brewer/David Rose (background) - Relationship
Comments: 32
Kudos: 104
Collections: platonic slumber party of platonic slumber parties





	The winds will wash you out your hair, my dears.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Januarium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Januarium/gifts).



> Title from [For Janice and Kenneth to Voyage](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/browse?contentId=26907) by Frank O'Hara, a honeymoon poem

David was staying at the motel tonight. He’d rolled his eyes and said Alexis was making a fuss about tradition, but he’d had a little tucked-up dimple when he said it. 

Patrick’s parents were staying at the motel, too, and the cousins who’d made their way this far out had decided to camp. He’d spent a little while out there with them, but kid bedtimes came early, and though Aidan tried to cajole him into sticking around a bit longer, Patrick had begged off, citing the very real risk of a hangover if he spent too long with his cousins, backed up by Rachel, who told Aidan she had work to do that night.

Because Rachel was crashing in his apartment. He and David didn’t have that many out-of-town guests, but combined with random visitors, they’d been enough to fill up the motel before Rachel had booked a room. She was usually prompt about these things--Patrick noticed. David had been the one to reach out, let her know they really wanted her there. He’d been the one to suggest she stay at Patrick’s, too. “She’ll fit on your tiny couch,” David had said. “It’s fine.” She’d probably leave right after the wedding, and if not, David had very realistic ideas about how tired they would be at that point. So Patrick went along.

Rachel didn’t have work to do. “You just seemed like you wanted to get out of there,” she said, and Patrick felt himself grimace. “Don’t worry, I was happy to leave. They still drink terrible beer.” 

That continuity, that  _ still, _ it didn’t feel as awkward with Rachel as it did with his cousins. “I don’t talk to them enough,” he said. “And then that makes it weird when I do.”

“And I  _ know _ you haven’t discussed that with any of them.”

“I’ve only seen them once since I moved here,” he protested, like that was the problem. Their contours--their entire conversations--were familiar, but they’d adjusted to accommodate Patrick’s absence, and no one had been sure how to fit him,  _ now _ Patrick, back in. It had been one thing when he’d driven up to meet them in Pine Falls with David for a night. David, with his newness, his obvious difference from all the T-shirt-clad Brewers, had been the center of gravity then, pulling the whole night into an unusual shape. But on his own--Patrick felt set back years, diminished. 

“You don’t think any of them have changed at all in, what,” and she made this face like she was actually counting, like she hadn’t been measuring how long he was gone the whole time, and he really really hoped that was true, “two and a half years?”

He blinked. “Damn,” he said. But he joked his way out of it. “I mean, the kids have.”

She counted them off on her fingers. “Joe got divorced, Megan quit IVF”--wait, no one had told him about  _ that _ one--“Casey started discernment to go to  _ seminary, _ and Matt told his dad he wasn’t going to keep working for him and he should sell the business, so if you think being gay is the most scandalous thing a cousin in your family can do, your parents obviously haven’t been passing along the fallout of any of  _ that.” _

They had; Patrick knew all about it. “They still all--I don’t know, Rach, they all know how to talk to each other, and I--”

Rachel softened. “I know,” she said. “You seemed normal. Which is--I mean old normal. We don’t talk  _ that _ much, but you haven’t seemed like that since you came here.”

Bless her. For getting him out of there--for having noticed. She opened his freezer, for all the world like she owned the place. That seemed normal too. “Yeah,” he said, and his voice sounded gasping.

“Anyway,” she said, “David told me there was ice cream here, but I thought he meant, like, one kind.” She turned to raise her eyebrows at Patrick. “I didn’t realize he was  _ this _ much cooler than you.” She handed him the mint chocolate chip, and he took it. She looked over the options a moment before selecting lemon. Patrick retrieved spoons, bowls. He didn’t know whether he wanted ice cream, but he was glad that he didn’t have to choose. “He also left us a tub of face mask, and I think I get in trouble if you don’t use it, so that’s next.”

Patrick chuckled. “You can’t get in trouble with David,” he said. “He’s still kind of nervous about making a good impression.” Rachel chuckled, so Patrick said, “He told you about the ice cream, didn’t he?”

“Plus I could definitely take him in hand-to-hand combat.”

“I mean, honestly?” At some point, Patrick realized, he’d started smiling. “Probably could.”

He’d gotten the ice cream back into the fridge, and they both sat on the couch. She leaned back against the cushions. “What a weird sleepover.”

“I’m really glad you decided to stay here,” he said, and he was.

“Yeah.” She tucked her socked feet underneath here. “Where do you get this ice cream? It’s incredible.”

“Oh, David’s a connoisseur. We’ve tried every ice cream for a hundred kilometers.”

She took a few more bites before she said, “You’ve really gone out of your way.”

“We take ice cream very seriously.”

“I mean to be here.” She shrugged. “You run a business. You’re about to marry your literal first boyfriend. It’s like you stopped at a wide point in the highway and said, this is it.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, which was what the ice cream was for. He  _ had _ thought she was it, back when--well, when he’d thought that what was in front of him was all there was. He and Rachel had been best friends for half their lives; sure they would have driven an hour to an ice cream stand just for the pleasure of being awake together in the muggy depths of July. But neither of them had been looking for farmstands, ready to be astonished by something sweet and new.

“Thank God you left,” she added. She held up the ice cream on the end of her spoon. “Can you imagine if you’d never found this?”

**Author's Note:**

> as is the case with all of the slumber parties, I haven't actually reread this; please do feel free to inform me if there are any unfinished sentences.


End file.
